Through the Madhouse
by electric Serpent
Summary: Clancy has gone through too much to die now! So with some minor plot alterations he gets a second chance to continue his adventure through the madhouse. But life as a prisoner is never easy, especially when Lucas Baker is your captor. Join Clancy as he uncovers the terrible secrets of the Baker family all while trying not to die a horrible painful death.
1. Chapter 1

'This is bullshit! This is bullshit!' the mantra was stuck on repeat in his head. With everything that was going on he really could find no better way to describe his situation.  
Grab the telescope, enter some weird as code, burn the straw dummy, oh look it's a finger now. …  
"Seriously what the fuck!" he murmured for the hundredth time that evening. Due to his aversion for the creepy ass clown in the first hall he attached the finger as quickly as possible before winding the key and stepping back. The dummy sprang to life moving its hand is a circular pattern as if was trying to write something down, maybe that's where all the black scribble patterns on the pages spread out in front of it came from. 'Clearly it needs a pen or something' he figured, he decided to head to the back room with the rope tied door. Maybe something in the next room could help him.  
Clancy held his re-lit candle firmly placing it under the thick rope for several seconds before it finally ignited. He straightened himself back up staring at the flames consuming the red rope for a few long seconds. He felt entranced by the burning rope, he had always found flames to be beautiful but in this moment they evoked a feeling of uneasy as he gazed into them.

When the rope had been eaten through enough to fall apart Clancy reached out, the handle was a bit warm still from the flames. He braced himself, who could know what would jump out at him from behind the door. Taking a deep breath, he let the door fall open, "This is bullshit!" he said staring at the room full of balloons. Kicking the balloons out of the way he marched up the other door which of course he found to be locked apparently know he needed a 5 letter sequence to get the dame valve handle on the other sided. He turned looking back towards the other door and scanned the floor, 'something must be in here' he thought to himself, Lucas seemed to have planned every detail of this place very deliberately. He leaned down holding out his candle to see in the dim light as he searched the floor for some clue maybe as to what the code might be. His candle strayed to near to a gray balloon. The *POP* echoed in the room startling Clancy, he dropped his candle as he fell back against the wall letting out a uneasy snicker at his own skittishness. After a breath, he looked down to find the candle in the mass of balloons, his task was made very easy as another balloon popped in the candles wake. As he picked it up he noticed a greenish yellow balloon that was much smaller than the rest. He picked it up noting that it weighed more than a normal balloon as well. Looking it over he found that the opening had an attachment to make filling it with air easier. It clicked for him then, he was supposed to fill the balloon with the air that was flowing out of the broken pip in the kitchen.

Back in the kitchen it took him two tries to fit the balloon over the nozzle of the pipe, when he finally managed it began to fill fast causing odd spike shaped protrusions to distort the shape of the balloon making it look more like a morning star. Dumbfounded he continued to stare as the balloon swelled bigger and bigger. Finally, his brain kicked back on, adrenaline flooded thought him as became aware of his mistake. It was too late to move away or hide but thankfully his instincts saved his face. The balloon exploded sending tacks in all directions his hands shot up guarding his eyes and receiving a puncture wound for their trouble. In hindsight, why hadn't he just ripped the balloon open, if he hadn't been so wrapped up with doing the puzzle he would have been fine now, he thought as he stared at the nail sticking through his hand for a second breathing in an out in disbelief. Still in shock reached up with his right hand grabbing the head of the nail and pulling, it hadn't really hurt until then but as he pulled the nail slid against raw nerves igniting a fierce burn that traveled all the way up his arm making his eyes sting with tears. As the nail slid free he couldn't help the pained moan that escaped his lips. Only when the nail clanged against the floor did he realize that there was pain somewhere else too. He looked down in search of more nails but instead found an old style quill pen that had made a new home in is stomach. He stared at it, he hands coming up to cup the sides of the foreign object. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed, as a nauseating ache bloomed inside of him. He grasped the edge of the pen, he felt the tip move inside of him and his stomach clenched he could almost feel the stomach acid work its way up his esophagus. Determination drove him forward though and with shear mental effort he pulled continuously until the pen came out with a wet squelching noise. His eyes were fixed on the pen, blurry and unfocused around the edges, Clancy had never before wanted his own bed so much! He would give his hand (not that is was working to well with a hole in it anyway) to have student loans, mortgages, or bitchy confusing girlfriends be his only problems in life.

In in daze he wandered back toward the clown. Standing in front of the creepy piece of technology he felt a shiver run down his spine. Reaching out with both hands he fitted the quill into the repaired hand of the clown before winding the key in its abdomen. As Clancy pulled his hand back from the key the clowns right hand flipped up grasping his wrist tightly. Clancy in a frantic rush began tugging at his arm but he stopped in horror as the clown's other hand joined the party. He felt the quill pens tip press and break the flesh of his upper forearm dragging is pointed tip down along the skin. As he endured more trauma his brain seemed to check out, for Clancy it was over in a blur of pain and fear. When his wrist was finally released he jerked it back holding it to his chest defensively as he attempted to calm himself down. Once he was no longer afraid of entering cardiac arrest he turned his palm up to look at the damage done to his arm. "LOSER" was scrawled into his arm, long jagged letters that wept bloody tears.

It took him a while to process what the word meant. Did he lose the game? Did he do something wrong? What Lucas going to kill him in here? It took him a full minute to make sense of the 5 letters on his arm before he realized that the lock he didn't have a code for needed 5 characters. He wanted to slap himself, but settled on a light face palm.

Feeling entirely drained and stunned he walked back to the balloon room to input the code. The lock clicked open and he sighed in relief. It was over he knew exactly what to do with the valve handle now in his possession all he had to do was turn off the water that kept him from getting the lit candle into the cake room and he was done! With new found determination he walked back into the kitchen, he sat the candle down next to the stove top that he never bothered to turn off and walked into the cake room getting drenched for the last time. The candles were lit and a distorted version of the happy birthday song was playing. He fit the handle into its slot on the wall next to the door and turned it a few times to the right until it would go no more. After collecting the candle, he triumphantly stood in front of the cake. With more force than was necessary he pressed the candle into the top of the cake queuing cheering and applause from the speaker system.

One second Clancy was looking down on the stupid pink birthday cake, the next he was staring up at the ceiling, he ears were ringing and white spots were decorating his vision. Sitting up on the floor he took stock of the room, pink icing was splatted over the walks and the table that once held the cake was just a pile of flaming sticks. He watched the flames as he tried to orient himself still thinking 'what the hell just happened!' when suddenly the flaming pile of table sparked the oil that had leaked all over the floor of the room. Standing up quickly Clancy tried desperately to brush the flames of his pants earning him even more pain as blisters started popping up on his palms. He backed away from the spreading flames, staring at them in shock.

Water! He needed water! Turning to the valve handle that he had recently placed on the wall he began to turn it only hesitating due to the pain that sprung up as a result of his injured hands coming in contact with the still cool metal. The valve was stuck! As he tried to break it lose he heard Lucas's laughter in the background playing from the speakers. God! He didn't want to die like this, not after surviving the night in the basement and escaping that mad woman with her putrid food! Using all his might and tearing his palms up even more Clancy felt the handle shift and then to his dismay it fell away from the wall! He was left completely defenseless against the encroaching flames. The inferno rose up like a hungry animal, tongues of flame lapping at his legs! He pressed himself against the wall were the door way once was, the oil had yet to cover this part of the floor but the blasé was making quick work devouring every ignitable surface it could find. Thankfully the water that had been spilled there was now making it very hard for it to eaten up by the flames. Clancy was in full blow panic mood now, he could hear his own desperate panting over the roar of the fire! He turned clawing at the wall that stopped his retreat, "PLEASE!" he screamed! "Let me out!" his shrieks when unanswered. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" he yelled, his panting now sounded more like hysterical laughter. He could feel the heat burning him despite its distance and his lungs felt like acid had replaced his air supply. Spots were again clouding his vision, he didn't even feel the pain of his knees slamming the ground as he fell forward.

The ability to comprehend his dire situation was leaving him fast, his overtaxed mind was consumed in a whirl of heat, pain, and fear. In the state he was in he only vaguely realized that the wall he was leaning on was moving up and away from him receding back into the ceiling. The flames, which like him where seeking more oxygen, jumped over him scorching his back as they tried to escape into the room beyond.

The little coherence he had been struggling to hold on to slipped away leaving him to gracelessly fall against the floor boards with a thump, gasping at the fresh air like a fish on land. His only protest when rough hands drug him forward agitating his wounds was a small whine. And by the time he was fully removed from the room turned hell on Earth he had already passed out succumbing to stress and his injuries.


	2. Chapter 2

He dreamt of flames and black oozing monsters with shark mouths, of secret passages and home cooked meals made from Andre and Pete's dismembered bodies. He tossed and turned in a fitful rest coming in and out of consciousness several times. It didn't matter if he was awake or in a dream nothing made since so he just let himself drift, hoping that the world would work itself out while he rested.

When he finally woke, he was coved in sweat and his entire body ached. His head, no different from the rest of him felt like it had been split in two and crudely sewn back together. The first thoughts to come to him were thoughts of denial. He must have done some sort of weird drug, he was probably late for his new filming job by now. Upon noting that the bed he was on was too small and his legs hung over the end he concluded that he must have gone home with someone last night, maybe he had been drugged?

With as much courage as he could muster he finally blinked his eyes open, looking up at the pale ceiling noting the light streaming in from a nearby window. It was easy to determine that this was definitely not his studio apartment. With a feeling of dread, he turned his head to look around the room, noting that it was the room of a child. His eyes flitted around the walls glazing over the trophies on the walls and the soccer ball on the floor he began to panic …. Again. This could not be real! If it was he would already be dead. He would have burned in that room!

But was he dead? No, he could not be dead, he was pretty sure dead people didn't feel pain. So, where the hell was he?

So many thoughts swirled in his head he was starting to feel dizzy. Sighing and placing his head into his hands he caught a glimpse of his left forearm. In long jagged letters the word 'LOSER' was still etched into his skin. All of the other injuries that he had sustained in the past two days were now nothing more than tender patches of flesh, looking like they had happened months ago not the day prior. However, the painful letters where still clear as day on his arm, left as an ugly reminder that this in fact was really happening! Clancy shot out of the bed rushing straight for the wooden door, of course it was locked! Great!

He turned around letting himself fall back against the door placing his hands on his thighs and letting his head hang heavy. "Is this another stupid saw trap?" He asked no one. He spent several moments trying to force his breathing to return to normal, he calmed himself with thoughts of determination. He had survived 5 hours surrounded by shark-faced tar monsters, the immortal man with chainsaw scissors, and the world's worst birthday party, dying now via a panic induced shock in a child's bedroom would just be sad. With these thoughts in mind Clancy stopped to really look around the room. 'What do I need to do?' he asked himself. Everything in this madhouse was a puzzle in some way or another, it was just like starting from square one, like the first time he woke up chained to a bed in the other bedroom. At least this time he was free to walk around.

'These people seem to hide stuff in weird places, all I have to do is find the right items and I'm free to go.' He assured himself. There was no time to waste since he had no idea when his "savior" would be back so he began his search of the room. He looked through everything, searching from top to bottom only occasionally stopping to kick the stacked plushy dice out of his way. During his search, he came across some very disturbing insights. The first thing he noted was he new attire. Some of his clothing items were different than he remembered. His red flannel was missing leaving him in a grey t-shirt, his hat was gone as well. His hair ties and watch were also missing, they had probably burned off in the fire. Looking down at his pants he noted that they were defiantly not the gray blue skinny jeans that he brushed flames off of the day before, but had been replaced with a pair of lose fitting black pants his shoes were completely M.I.A. He didn't want to think of what fate might have befallen his missing clothes instead choosing to focus on the situation at hand. He distracted himself from thoughts of someone undressing him when he was unconscious by reading a few stray diary entries he had found. By this point in time Clancy was unsurprised to discover that Lucas had ostensibly murdered one of his "friends" at a young age by starving him to death in the attic. "I guess crazy starts early." He spoke to himself. The diary had also tipped him off as to how to get into the attic.

Looking around for a second he found the trophy turned lamp before setting down the diary in plain site on a table for any other unfortunate victims of the Baker family to find. He was more than a bit apprehensive climbing up the ladder into the attic. He stuck his head up looking back and forth in search of any signs of tar monsters or decaying children. He found neither, thankfully! He stepped off the ladder looking at the cluttered room. Best case scenario he could find something he could use as a weapon so he could hit that bastard Lucas whenever he showed his face again! The first thing that stood out to him was the dollhouse in the far corner walking up to it he noted that it seemed very well maintained which was surprising considering the state of the rest of the house. He pried on the front of the house but found it locked somehow. Peering through the window he could see what looked like a key inside. "Great! This is definitely another stupid puzzle," he sighed out. He looked around finding a light projector shining on a painting of a woman being attacked by an angry mob. A man loomed over the young women he appeared ready to strike her with a large axe. The picture was desaturated where the man should have been. Giving up on opening the doll house he turned to explore the rest of the room. Searching in the back of the room he found a toy axe and toy shotgun. He laughed at the irony, "so much for finding a weapon!" he said while twirling the useless shotgun in his hand.

It was then that Clancy heard the door to the room unlock he was startled and ended to dropping the gun, it clattered to the floor skidding a few feet away from him. He could hear the door being pushed open slowly, then it was quietly shut again. From below he could hear someone walking around. Clancy crouched down listening for any signs as to who exactly was in the room. He didn't have to wait long to discover who had wandered in. By now Lucas's voice was familiar to him and he recognized it immediately,

"Clancy!" he hollered, "Where ya at buddy?" He could hear Lucas walking over toward the ladder that ascended to Clancy's current hiding space. "Clancy my man, come on down now. I won't hurt ya. I promise." Clancy sat in silence his brain working hard to figure a way out of this situation. "I know you're up there! There's no way out except to come down." Lucas called up.

"Fuck you!" came the muffled response.

"No no-no, come on now buddy, don't be like that! After everything I've done for you?" was Lucas's reply. He must have been right under the ladder.

"Done for me?!" he yelled in disbelief, "You have done nothing but try to kill me in awful ways!" Anger flooded in making him feel too hot.

"Those were just games; don't you play games with your friends Clancy?" Clancy could hear the laughter in Lucas's voice.

'Sick fuck!' he thought to himself up in his perch.

"Come on now Clancy, its rude to keep someone waiting. I even went through the effort of getting you a little treat!" Lucas voice had a nasty edge to it now, Clancy could tell that Lucas was running out of patience. There was silence for a beat where Clancy could only hear his own breath. "Well, I guess if you won't come down," Lucas finally said, "I could always leave you up there for a bit. I'm sure you'll get hungry eventually!" he laughed coldly. "We can make in another game, I'm gonna call it 'see how ungrateful assholes can last without food'." His voice had dropped to an icy whisper. Clancy froze as he remembered the kid, Oliver, who was likely Lucas's first kill. Panic was creeping his way up his spine as it so often did when Lucas was around, he had no doubt that he would gladly let him starve to death up here. Not that he had actually seen any appealing food anywhere in this house. Still though the thought of starvation spurred him on.

"NO!" he shouted. The word had left his mouth seemingly without his permission. "W-wait," he stammered. He crawled over to the edge of the ladder, looking down he could see Lucas smiling up at him expectantly. "I'll come down," he said, "Just- just step away from the ladder." Lucas said nothing, only cocking an eyebrow before walking over to the other side of the desk near the window. Clancy hesitantly placed his foot on the top of the ladder. He paused to calm himself, he considered running for the door as soon as his feet hit the floor.

"You're fucking horrible at naming things." He commented at Lucas as he placed his foot on the top rung of the ladder. Lucas didn't comment just continued to watch as his victim came down the ladder.

He kept his eyes on Lucas for the duration of his decent. Lucas leered back at him, a lecherous smirk was on his face. That look alone made Clancy want to crawl back up into his perch for safety. When he was finally off the ladder he turned to face Lucas, who's smile grew, he reached forward quicker than Clancy could figure out what he was doing and hit the switch on the trophy that rested on the desk. Behind him he heard a mechanical whirl kick on before the ladder started to retract into the safety of the ceiling.

"Okay now Clancy," Lucas said, "it's time for your checkup."

"Huh? Check up?" Clancy questioned.

"Well yea, gotta make sure everything is properly sealed up and you don't need more 'a that." He explained gesturing to a black bag near the door of the room that Clancy hadn't noticed.

"What's in the bag?" Clancy asked as he continued to eye it skeptically. Rather than answer him Lucas walked across the room lifting the black sack from the floor. When he reached a hand in Clancy could hear the clinking of glass and then Lucas pulled out a familiar green bottle of first aid. Clancy almost signed in relief, a lot worse things could have been pulled out of that bag than magical bottles of serum that defied the laws of nature.

"Why would you help me?" Clancy asked cocking his head to the side

"Isn't it obvious, silly?" Lucas smirked at him while shaking the bottle a bit. "We can't start any more games if your too injured to play, now can we?" Any relief Clancy felt upon seeing the bottle drained from him at the idea of another "game."

"Fuck!" Clancy chirped out in a despairing tone. "Please! Haven't I played enough games? You sick son of a bitch!" a since of desperation was creeping up in his voice, "You said you would let me go after I beat you at blackjack!" Lucas set the bottle down on the bed before rounding on Clancy.

"Well, you see this is how it works," he said as he advanced on his victim. Clancy took a step back holding both hands up in a pacifying manor. Lucas's face had taken on a dark look, for once there was no trace of a smile.

"Stay away from me!" he yelled. Lucas ignored him continuing forward.

"you play my games," Clancy was backed into the corner of the room Lucas paused within arm's reach of the man in front of him. "you win the games," he grabbed Clancy's shirt pressing him back into the wall. "And you get to live." Clancy shook his head back and forth in denial a steady string of no's leaving his mouth. "Well, until I get bored of you that is." Lucas finished with a smile, his face a mere few inched from him. Clancy looked down at the pale hands grasping his shirt, his own hands had wrapped around Lucas's wrists pushing up his signature hoodie. He realized he was holding his breath and tried to force himself to release the CO2 building up in his lungs. Before he could get his body to obey though, Lucas had pulled him out of the corner, he felt a hand reach up grasping the back of his head yanking his hair sharply. He tried to get Lucas to let go, attempting to pry his fingers off his head but hand twined in his hair was unyielding. Lucas started walking forward pulling Clancy along until he stood in front of the bed and with seemingly little effort on Lucas's part Clancy found himself staring up at the ceiling back on the bed he had woke up in. He tried to sit up but was forced back down. Lucas wasted no time swinging one leg up over Clancy and straddling him one of his hands reaching to grab Clancy's throat the other reached down for a bottle of the first aid medicine. He set the bottle down near his victims head his probing gaze gave Clancy a once over. Clancy struggled to free himself, but like all of the other Bakers that he had encountered Lucas was equip with superhuman strength making it rather difficult for him to get free. He considered his captor's face, hoping dearly that bugs wouldn't start crawling out of his mouth like they had from his mother.

Lucas released his throat opting to grab his shoulders instead, using his new grip Lucas lifted him up flipping him so that he was face down on the mattress. Clancy struggled to free his arms from underneath his body so he could get more leverage, he stilled thought when he felt Lucas's hands pulling up on the hem line of his shirt. Fear and disgust mingled in his mind and rather than trying to free his hand his new objective was to pull his shirt back down to preserve his modesty. While he was able to make it difficult for Lucas he lost the fight over all ending up with the gray T being bunched up under his armpits.

"Stop struggling, it's not doing you any good." Lucas hummed, it seemed like he was speaking more to himself than to Clancy. He felt his fingers tracing up and down his back seemingly following some pattern.

"What are you doing?" Clancy asked from underneath him.

"I told you just lookin' to see how those burns healed up. Everything looks good up here he said." He said after a minute. He ran his hands down his back one last time before shifting to grab his right hand giving it a quick once over before switching to grab the left. Clancy remembered that yesterday both of his hands had been covered in swelling blister but his left hand had taken much more damage. His hand had not only been punctured by a nail in the party room, but even before that it had suffered rather brutal treatment, having two fingers detached thanks to a bad hand in blackjack. He felt Lucas run his own fingers over the circular scars wrapping around his pinky and ring fingers before moving to the palm of his hand where only a pinprick of white scare tissue remained from the nail. "Huh," he murmured, "looks like I did a pretty thorough job."

"Really? Cuz I think you miss a spot." Came Clancy's bitter response. He turned his palm face up arching his hand back to display the writing on his arm. Lucas remained quite momentarily, he took Clancy's offered hand in his looking over the word briefly his fingers traced the long-jagged letters causing his captive to shutter underneath him. After a long pause, Lucas dropped his wrist,

"I think that one can stay." He said. His voice had taken on an odd tone and rather than protesting Clancy struggled to figure out what it meant for him. Lucas then swung his legs off his victims back freeing him to sit up. Clancy scrambled to do so pulling down his still crumpled up shirt in the same motion. Lucas was standing about a foot from the edge of the bed, the bottle of first aid was still in his hand. He fixed Clancy with a stare before continuing, "Give me your leg, they were the worst." Not wanting to end up pinned down again, he obliged slowly sliding one leg out from under him, as Lucas kneeled down he considered kicking him in the face but when he began drawing his leg back to do just that Lucas reached out grabbing his ankle.

Clancy watched intensely as the pants leg was rolled up his leg, he hadn't bothered to check himself for injuries during his earlier search of the room so he was almost surprised to see the dark pink lines of scaring that were running up from his ankle and dipping down into his sock. Lucas didn't hesitate simply pulling a white towel out of the bag next to the bed placing it under the still healing leg. He then twisted the top of the first aid bottle and poured a generous amount of the liquid on to the scar tissue. The contents of the bottle felt cold on his skin and brought a weird tingling sensation with it, the towel caught the excess stopping it from soaking into the bed. After a minute or so Lucas used the edge of the towel to dry the rest of his leg off. Already he could see that the pink scars were lightening in color the tingling had turned into more of an itch that he had to work not to scratch. Lucas rolled his pant leg back down before reaching for the other leg, this one was not as bad only some faint lines remained around his ankle and on the back of his calf. This time instead of dumping the bottle out on his leg Lucas grabbed a cotton round and poured a small amount of the clear liquid onto it before wiping up and down the length of the scars. When he was satisfied that enough had been applied he recapped the bottle and put away all the supplies. Clancy pulled his legs into his chest watching Lucas repack the bag over the tops of his knees. When he had finished, Lucas looked back up, locking eyes with the man on the bed, "I gotta go put all this stuff away now." He said as he stood. "I'll be back later tonight with more food for ya." Lucas shoved his hand in the bag one last time fishing around in it for a second, "You can have this for now anyway." He tossed a green package and a water bottle at him which landed on the bed bouncing a bit before rolling to Clancy's side. He reached down to inspect the package first, finding that it was a bag of trail mix. He looked back up a Lucas murmuring his thanks before looking away. Lucas walked toward the door without acknowledgement but turned back to Clancy before opening it, "You be good and stay in here now, otherwise mom or dad might find you," he fixed Clancy with a hard stare, "I don't think they will be as nice as I am." He said in a sing song voice. Without waiting for Clancy's response, he slipped out the door. Clancy continued to stare at the door for a moment. He heard an audible click as Lucas locked the door, followed by footsteps retreating down the hall. He sighed, turning his attention back to the trail mix. He really was hungry, when was the last time he had eaten?

He was cautious enough to inspect the bag for signs of tampering first, but when he found none he quickly ripped into the bag practically pouring into down his throat. He tried to remind himself that he may not have more food for a while and that he should save this for as long as possible but it had been too long since the last time he had eaten and his self-control was shot. Both the trail mix and the water were finished in minutes leaving Clancy still very hungry and unsatisfied. He looked around the room trying to figure out how to keep himself entertained until Lucas's return.


	3. Chapter 3

Boredom set in quickly after he finished his merger meal so Clancy got up out of the too small bed to continue his exploration of the attic. Flipping the switch to lower the attic's ladder he climbed back up hoping to find anything helpful that he might have missed earlier.

After about a half hour of digging around only finding a dead rat and some old clothes he flopped down on the couch that had been stored against the wall. He let out a sigh resting his head in both of his hands for a beat. After a breath, he reclined back into the seat looking up at the ceiling, as he stared up he noticed something glinting in the rafters. Cocking his head to the side to get a better look, he determined that it was some sort of metal object resting on one of the beams of the ceiling. Clancy stood up he figured that if he could get up on the upper platform of the attic he might be able to reach whatever the object that was up there was. Once he had pulled himself up there to stand he leaned against the wall reaching out to try and grab what he had now figured out was a metal statuette. His arm was too short though, as he reached out he found that he was several inches away from his target. Not one to be daunted though he began the search for something to help him. Looking around the room his eyes once again found the toy shot gun that he had dropped earlier, the barrel of the gun was more than long enough to knock the statuette off its perch. Clancy jumped down retrieving the gun from where it had fallen, he looked it over noting that there was a small dent in the butt of the gun from being so carelessly handled earlier, he snorted at the prospect of messing up Lucas's toys. With careless abandon he tossed the gun up onto the platform, following up right behind it.

With some precarious balancing and two attempts he finally knocked the statuette down. It hit the couch and bounced off, clattering to the floor. Clancy cringed at the noise, fearful that someone would come to investigate. He sat still for several minutes waiting for someone to show up. He almost expected Lucas's crazy mother to start shouting about someone making racket but only silence could be heard. When he was fairly certain no one was coming, he jumped down to find the statuette it had bounced pretty hard and was now lying next to the dresser that was immediately in front of the square opening leading back down into the bedroom. Picking it up he found that it was a strange blocky arrangement of metal arms, weighing about 3 pounds in his hands. He looked at it skeptically, his first thought was that it was a welding project gone horribly wrong, like some sort of metal chimera.  
"Why the hell do they have this thing laying around?" He wondered, twisting it about in his hands. He sat back down on the couch with the statuette. 'Maybe I'm was looking at it from the wrong side, or thinking about it wrong, or maybe it's just a useless piece of modern art?' he though. Almost ready to give up on the thing, he sat it down on his knee glancing around the room, maybe it has to be put together with something, just like the lantern wall hangers in the room he had woken up in a day or so prior. That's when it hit him, he let out a frustrated, "What the hell, is this place?" before standing up and walking to the podium in front of the painting. The light was already on in the projector so it was a simple act of setting the statuette down in the stream of light projecting onto the picture known as "Judgment". He began twisting it again, modeling what he had done with it earlier only this time with a purpose. After a few tries the shadow being projected onto the screen was matched perfectly with the overexposed portion of the picture, he heard a click. He smiled to himself, proud that he had figured it out so quickly, it took him forever to match the stupid fork up to the snake's face, the last time he had been forced to complete one of these stupid puzzles.

Walking over, he again pulled on the face of the dollhouse. This time it swung open revealing a small gray key attached to a ring, it had a tag with illegible writing on it, ostensibly telling the reader where the keys place of designated use was. It didn't matter too much to Clancy though, his mind was full of thoughts of escape. He exited the attic quickly rushing over to the bedroom door. He fit the key into the hole, taking a breath as he prepared himself for whatever was on the other side of the door. "No more tar monsters, no more tar monsters." He quietly prayed to himself. He twisted the key to the right it refused to move, so he twisted it left, same result. He stopped glaring at the key with squinted eyes, he jerked it back and forth a few times with increasing force still nothing. "Gaah! Dammit, dammit!" he exclaimed turning from the door and throwing the key across the room. "You have got to be kidding me!" He accused the room, he let himself slide down to the floor staring in dismay. He leaned back banging his head against the door a few times before he got up to find the key he had chucked.

With is hopes of escape crushed, it was time for plan B. Clancy figured it was better if Lucas didn't know what he had been up to, so he climbed the attic ladder for a third time. He closed what he was now dubbing, "the dollhouse of disappointment" before grabbing the statuette from the podium. He glared bitterly back and forth between the statue and its former hiding place. Finally, he decided it wasn't worth the effort to try and put it back up there. If he dropped it casually behind the couch, it might look like he had fallen on its own accord. For authenticity sake he even factored in how much the statuette liked to bounce.

Back in the bedroom he paced around, the key in his hand. Only now did the writing on the tag become important for him to figure out. So far, he had made out a "B-a" or "B-e"? Maybe? He was ready to throw the key again, he pocketed it instead. He walked back over the bed, plopping down on it. He was tired and much of his body still hurt. He decided to try and conserve energy, maybe a quick nap wouldn't be so bad. He assured himself that he would only rest his eyes for 30 minutes at most as he lied down on the flat pillow, but quickly his promise to himself was forgotten to the world of sleep.


End file.
